


Tell Me Something Sweet

by Milieu



Category: Bandom, Black Veil Brides
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Body Image, Butch/Femme, F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Homophobic Language, Light Angst, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 20:12:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8341186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milieu/pseuds/Milieu
Summary: Andy's got some issues to work through, but that's probably not happening tonight. Ashley just tries to be there for her.





	

One could generously say that Andy was having a bit of an off day.

It was one of those things - she had the emotion, she had the motivation, she had the need to perform, but the words came out jumbled and she missed her cues, and she didn't have to look for the steadily draining patience of the rest of the band and their crew to know it was there. She had to squash the urge to snap at them that she  _knew_ she was fucking up, she was  _trying_ , but nobody had said anything to merit such a response and Andy was left with no outlet for her welling frustration.

When they finally called the rehearsal, she stormed off set without a word. The others stayed behind, pretending to mess with their instruments, probably thinking they were doing her a favor letting her vent on her own. In reality, she wanted someone to verbally throw down with, if not physically. Probably not physically, because when you were a six-foot-three aggressively butch lesbian the only people who wanted to even jokingly fight with you were machismo-fueled douchebags who thought that it didn't count as hitting a girl.

Andy had settled on sprawling on the couch backstage and sulkily sipping from her water bottle instead of throwing a tantrum by the time the others started drifting in. Ashley plopped right on the couch next to Andy after putting her bass away, looking determinedly chipper in response to the sulking. Andy just scowled more; it certainly wasn't her fault, but Ashley bouncing around in that tiny cutoff tank top sure hadn't been  _helping_ with any of the distractions on-stage.

Andy could never quite decide if she was envious of Ashley's body or just lusting after it. She probably had some kind of complex about it, considering A) Ashley was really hot, B) Andy was hella gay, and C) people were constantly comparing them. People had compared their looks ever since they started working together, things they thought were harmless - Was tall, skinny Andy jealous of Ashley's curves? Did she think Ashley was a slut because the guys flocked to her instead of Andy? More than one interviewer trying to stir up drama between them had been told in no uncertain terms exactly where they could shove their mic and their assumptions, by both of them.

It had only gotten worse since Andy overhauled her look, cutting her hair and collecting tattoos and making out with Juliet Simms onstage at Warped while they flipped the world the bird. She'd ridden the thrilling high of that summer until she crashed and had to come back to the real world with all of its intolerable questions and judgments.

The first time Ashley had hauled off and punched some drunk concert-goer who yelled  _dyke!_ as Andy left the stage had been the first time Andy really wanted to kiss her.

Now Ashley was sitting here, radiating forced cheer and being gorgeous and basically ruining Andy's life. "Hey," she said, "it's fine. We'll try again tomorrow." And Andy just sank further down on the couch and deeper into her sulk both.

Ashley rolled her eyes at the theatrics. "Look, let's go out tonight. Take the edge off, you know?" She nudged Andy's leg with her own, and Andy sighed loudly to cover the jolt of warmth the contact sent through her.

"Yeah, sure. I'll kick your ass at bar trivia."

Ashley grinned. "I was thinking more along the lines of finding you a nice lady to spend the night with so you wouldn't be such a grouch tomorrow, but bar trivia works too."

Andy sighed again, quieter. "Yeah, whatever."

\---

Half an hour and three drinks in, and there was no bar trivia and no approachable women, but there were certainly plenty of men swaggering up to Ashley because they had ideas about women who showed their midriff or something. Some of them would give Andy a once-over, and she had enough experience with this by now to identify the "oh, I thought you were a dude and maybe her boyfriend" look. She kept her expression cool and her mouth shut except to down more beer.

Most were turned down with a few choice words and would slink off with a reproachful look or a muttered insult. Andy would never wish anything of the sort on Ashley, but some part of her half-hoped one of the men would get handsy so she'd have an excuse to punch someone. It wouldn't have been necessary for her to intervene, she'd seen Ashley floor dudes almost twice her size, but she was frustrated and tired and none of this was helping the way it was supposed to.

Some punk with a Misfits shirt and too much facial jewelry leaned in close to Ashley and said something that Andy didn't catch, and Ashley laughed for the first time that night. Andy drained the rest of her beer and thought about just smothering herself in Ashley's D-cups and letting natural selection take its course. At least she'd die happy.

\---

Two hours and some lost count of drinks later, people were starting to filter out of the bar and into the night, and Andy and Ashley were still in their booth. Misfits shirt guy had drifted off somewhere surprisingly amiably after being turned down, Ashley had gotten caught up in yelling at the televised baseball game along with a few other patrons, and Andy squished herself further into the corner and gave the bartender who had just cut her off the dirtiest look she could manage.

She hadn't even realized that she'd started to cry until Ashley looked at her with alarm. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." Andy scrubbed a hand over her face and sniffled. It was true, in a way. There was no one thing to pinpoint, just a long, frustrating day on top of all the other little things that needled her from day to day. "Fuck, I don't know. I want to go home."

"Sure, sure," Ashley said in a deliberately soothing voice that would have annoyed Andy if she were in a more coherent state. Ashley fished her wallet out of her purse and paid the tab, not batting an eye when Andy tried to protest Ashley buying her drinks. "Come on." She hooked her arm around Andy's waist and supported her as they stumbled outside, Andy from the drink and Ashley from Andy leaning on her.

Ashley eased her into the car and leaned in to wipe Andy's eyes instead of immediately heading around to the driver's side. Andy hugged her, not knowing what else to do. Ashley didn't protest, giving her a firm squeeze in response and brushing her hand through Andy's hair. "Sorry things didn't work out tonight."

"No, it's okay, it's... fuck, I don't know what's wrong with me right now." Andy muttered into Ashley's hair, blinking more tears away and trying not to think too hard about the fact that she'd practically pulled Ashley into her lap and that they were effectively now snuggling in the passenger seat of Ashley's car.

Ashley kept running her fingers soothingly through Andy's hair. "It'll be okay. Everyone has bad days." She let silence settle over them for a moment before adding, "You can talk to me about it if you want to."

"I... you're my best friend, you know? And I don't want to fuck things up with us, or with the guys or our careers and..." Andy babbled, and hell, none of this had been the root reason. There probably was no root reason, just a thousand little things digging at her because she was twenty-five and still trying to figure herself out and people couldn't just fucking let her live.

Ashley was touching her hair and her face and rubbing her back, and they were so close, so so close-

"Ash," she whispered, not trusting herself to raise her voice more than that.

"Hm?" Ashley's voice was right in her ear.

"Kiss me."

Ashley shifted and the wide-awake part of Andy's brain (muffled though it was) fully expected to be left alone in the parking lot while Ashley escaped back into the world of heterosexuality within the bar. The warm wash of Ashley's breath over her lips snapped the rest of Andy's brain awake and the first part of it to have anything resembling coherence just shouted something like  _ha, you were wrong bitch!_ at her before it was shut up again by the sensation.

Ashley was soft in a way Andy never had been, and she wanted more, more of Ashley's lips, more of her skin and the breathy noises she made. She couldn't suppress a frustrated whine when Ashley pulled away.

"I'm not taking advantage of you while you're drunk," Ashley murmured.

Andy scowled. "Yeah, well, you sure don't take advantage of me when I'm sober either, no matter how much I want you to," she snarked back.

Ashley grinned, brushing her fingers over Andy's neck where her pulse pounded. "You could have said something..."

Andy made an affronted noise. "Why didn't  _you_ say something?"

Ashley shrugged. "I didn't want to make things weird if I was wrong." Her expression softened. "You're my best friend too, you know."

"We can be best friends and still... you know..." Andy toyed with Ashley's fingers, breaking their eye contact out of sudden embarrassment.

"You're still drunk, though."

Andy huffed. "What, you want me to list all the things I think about when I'm not drunk to convince you?"

Ashley raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress another grin.

"Fine. First of all - that fucking tank top has been distracting me all day and the only place I want to see it ever again is on my floor. Same goes for those shorts. And don't even get me  _started_ on the fishnets- mmph!" Andy was cut off by Ashley pressing her hand over her mouth, laughing.

"Your voice is so  _loud_ ," she said between giggles. "Everyone in a five-mile radius is going to hear what you think of my shorts."

Andy grabbed Ashley's ass and squeezed firmly, drawing a very interesting noise out of her. " _That's_ what I think of your stupid shorts."

"Okay, alright-" Ashley was still laughing, obviously trying to calm herself. "Still not fucking you while you're drunk."

"I'm sobering up," Andy protested.

"You were crying fifteen minutes ago and now you're groping me. Going to say your judgment can't be trusted right now."

Andy let out a long sigh, leaning back against the headrest. "So what, you drop me off at home, we go back in to rehearsal tomorrow and... what? We talk about it later?" The idea of talking this out, whatever it was, struck a chord of terror somewhere deep inside her, the way being forced to bare her inner thoughts always had. Was that really better than just fucking now and acting like it never happened?

Ashley's expression suggested that Option B wasn't really an option at all. "Something like that, yeah." She sighed at Andy's frown. "Look, I don't want this to be something unresolved between us. Whether we decide we both want it and are ready or not... you're my best friend. If the thing that comes between us is just the fact that we can't be adults about this kind of thing, then that's fucking stupid."

Andy looked away, eyes following the line of streetlamps down the road as if they'd give her some kind of answer. Even her still slightly-drunk brain knew Ashley was right. "...We'll still be friends, right? No matter what happens?"

Ashley leaned back in and looped her arms around Andy's neck, hugging her properly. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, bitch."

That brought a smile to Andy's face despite the confusing mixture of other emotions she was feeling. "Good."

"You can spend the night," she said sometime later and a ways down the road. Ashley gave her a doubtful look and she thought about trying to make some kind of excuse or clarification. Instead, she said, "I was told that I need to spend the night with a nice lady so I won't be a grouch tomorrow."

Ashley laughed and reached over to squeeze her hand.

\---

"Do you ever wear a bra?" Ashley asked as they fumbled in the dark to get undressed enough to comfortably sleep.

"I don't have any tits, Ash." Andy deadpanned at the spot in the darkness that was tugging at her clothes. Her lack of bust was just one of the many things that people pointed out when comparing them, as if Andy had somehow never noticed her own flat chest before in the decade or so since puberty struck.

"Sure you do. They're right... here!" Andy made an undignified noise as Ashley's hands snaked up her shirt and gave her small breasts a squeeze, no doubt some sort of payback for the earlier groping in the car.

"I thought you said you weren't fucking me while I'm drunk," Andy managed when she remembered how words went.

"I don't mean to alarm you, Andy, but there's more to fucking than grabbing someone's boobs." Andy didn't need to see to know exactly what kind of sarcastic grin Ashley had on her face. 

"You know what, I'm not dealing with you right now. I'm going to bed." She shuffled away from Ashley's wandering hands and shimmied the rest of the way out of her pants before crawling underneath the covers. There was a soft rustle as Ashley finished undressing and slid in next to her, pressing up close just as she had that afternoon on the couch.

"Night!" Ashley said cheerfully, snuggling her head into the crook of Andy's neck.

"Bitch," she muttered back. She held Ashley tight until the morning anyways.


End file.
